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chimivx · 4 months

Text

yellow. (6)

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader (and always ot7)

summary: It's finally happened, you're living your dream. You've landed the job of your wildest fantasies, doing it beside someone who means a hell of a lot to you. It's only been a few months, but it's been pretty easy to settle into this way of life- the constant on the go, the always working, the barely sleeping. Your relationship has been flourishing as well, you and Yoongi working together better than ever... It seems, until now.

words: 5.5k

warnings: none for this part, still 18+ for nsfw occasional themes, if i missed anything please let me know!

a/n: I didn't mean to get angsty... but... I did. Thank you for being here! (Also, want you all to know that with what they're doing in this part- I don't have exact dates/I can never find exact dates. So if some timing is off because I don't have the actual facts, I apologize. )

~ sometime in february, 2016 ~

“Put them in front of the camera, play the track, and let them go nuts,” you mumbled, chewing on your thumb nail while you studied a couple of shots the crew was monitoring.

The man dressed in all black who had asked you what you wanted to do next wasn’t walking away to do what he was told. Instead, he eyed the folded piece of paper in the hand that was folded over your chest, and lowered his brows ever so slightly.

Shifting your gaze over to him, you frowned. “What?” The man met your eyes and shrugged.

“Just thought there would be more, that’s all,” he said. “Usually there’s more detail involved.” His voice tapered off, and the tone he used was equally hesitant. All day every single male on this set had been speaking to you as if you hadn’t a clue as to what you were doing.

Well, every single male excluding seven of them.

Tilting your head to the side, you cross both of your arms and sit in your hip, raising a brow at the man. “There’s no detail involved, get them into that swimming pool, put a camera on the ground, and let them- and I mean it! Let them go nuts.”

From over his shoulder you spot some of the boys reviewing choreography while the others mess with the set. Sunny was on the sidelines, comb in hand, ready to jump in the moment someone needed a touch up. Her dark eyes were sharp, focused on the boy's details. Work mode on, you knew there wouldn’t be any getting through to her until after the shoot had wrapped.

Behind Taehyung, who was goofing off for a camera capturing behind the scenes footage, Yoongi lingered beside Jin, half listening to his friend while he watched you from across the set. Dressed in a bright orange shirt and ripped jeans, your silver haired boyfriend scrunched up his face and raised his fist, gesturing to the man who walked away from you.

Holding up a finger you widen your eyes and smile, telling him no with a single look. You could handle this yourself, you were a big girl. You’ve done this before, you’ve dealt with the men before, and you’ll have to endure it for the rest of your life. The curse of being a woman.

On the set of Run, the entire company was concerned where things were going, and where the concept was being taken, but you didn’t care. You didn’t let any of their opinions stop you from creating your art, even if you improvised most of it.

Sure, the company created the storyline. The company gave you guidelines and the basics of what to do and when to do it, but everything in between? Well, that was up to you, and you ran with it.

Run was your baby, and it will be forever. It’s chaotic, it’s over the top, it compels emotion. The boys were acting, the boys were having fun, the boys were smiling and laughing- and to you, that’s a win. You’ve seen how their shoots go when it’s just the other director on set. They exhaust themselves faster and don’t have nearly as much fun between shots. Bringing you and Sunny onto the team was the best thing the company could’ve done for these boys.

Yoongi smiled, then he drug his eyes up and down your body. You were dressed in all black and he was having a field day. The leggings you wore clung to your curves just right, and the long sleeved shirt that hung loosely off your figure belonged to him. Showing up in it this morning he had smirked at you and asked you where you had gotten it, acting like he didn’t watch you pick it up off of his floor mere hours before you both had to be on set.

Heaving a sigh, you walked away from the screen that replayed the shot of the choreography and took your time getting over to him. Eyes were on your back, you could feel them watching. Yoongi waited patiently, his smile growing the closer you got.

“What was his name, I’ll kick his ass,” he said with a smile once you were a few feet away from him.

“No ass kicking,” you said. “I can handle them. Drop the fake smile, I know you’re in pain.”

His smile didn’t fall, but it did falter. “I can handle it.”

The shoulder had been talked about twice since you heard the full story of what had gone down to keep him living in this everyday hell. The first time was shortly after you found out, when you caught him taking pain meds he swears he never has to take in a bathroom at the company between rehearsals. Brushing past it quickly because it seemed to get a rise out of him, you preferred if he didn’t get mad and would hopefully talk about it later.

He didn’t.

This was the second time it’s been brought up.

“I’m good,” he shrugged. Pointing at the piece of paper in your hand he found a way to change the subject, fast. “What’s this?”

Taking him in for another couple of seconds, your eyes letting him know you couldn’t believe he wasn’t taking his injury seriously, you unfold the paper that had scribbles upon scribbles written on it from late night cram sessions.

“Notes,” you said. The boys' names, and nicknames, were all over it along with random ideas that weasled their way into your brain at inconvenient times while you were away from your projects. This sheet of notebook paper was the ‘inconvenient thoughts about Fire’ paper. It had been folded so many times that it wasn’t as strong as it used to be, and some of the corners were torn because it was poorly handled most of the time.

You were an artist. The state of which your notes were in didn’t matter, as long as the finished product was perfect.

Yoongi took the sheet from you carefully and held it close to read your tiny, scribbled writing, his eyes squinting to pick up the faded pencil marks. “Holy shit, you’re thorough.”

Folding your arms over your chest you nodded. “I am.” Your tone struck him, making him look up at you with softened brows.

From somewhere in the back your name was called, a member of the crew beckoning you back to look something over so that they could move on. Leaving Yoongi without a word, he watched you walk away, and flattened his lips. Folding up your notes gently, following the creases that were permanently wrinkled into the paper, he starts toward you to return it, but in turn is summoned to wardrobe by Sunny and another woman.

The boys trudge over, Taehyung already stripping out of his jacket, but Yoongi hesitates. The way you were observing the shots on the screen, gesturing toward the equipment, speaking to the men like you were the boss, it was captivating. He adored watching you work, he adored getting to watch you make your art. He was proud of you, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had pissed you off.

“These shots are going to flash back and forth between the ones we’re going to film tonight,” you held both of your hands up to the screen, flipping one back and forth to visualize what you were thinking. “It looks boring now because it’s just one solid shot, but that’s also why we were zooming in and out so often.” The man who was sitting beside the screen held an empty stare. Swallowing a groan, you smile. “We needed one basic full shot of the choreography, if you get rid of this, I get rid of you.”

Now that caught his attention. His eyes shot open wide as he offered you meaningless apologies, turning toward the screen to make sure he saved every shot. You weren’t sure if you had the power to fire him. It wasn’t that you wanted to fire him, nor did you want to act like a bitch, but there was no way your point was going to get across if you didn’t threaten him with something.

“We’re done here for now, boys let’s change!” Sunny’s voice flooded the set, catching your attention for a second, but you didn’t dare look away from the men working around you. You could see Yoongi lingered behind. Wanting to see what he was waiting for, you held yourself back from giving him what he wanted- your attention.

It boggled your mind that he didn’t want to discuss what happened to him. In some ways, you can see why he wouldn’t want to, but at the end of the day, who can hold onto something so horrific and not talk it out? Seeking help through the boys, you asked every single one of them if Yoongi had talked about it since he first told them, and all six of them said no. Jin was the only one who had heard more, but it wasn’t like Yoongi acted as if it was a big deal.

If he could keep this hidden from you, and act like there wasn’t anything wrong with keeping it hidden from you, you were worried he’d be able to keep other things from you. And now that you were finally feeling a little bit excited about life, you weren’t about to let him get away with shit.

“Back everything up, please,” you said to whichever crew member was listening, and followed the boys and Sunny into the building you were set to shoot in next.

In the tiniest room all seven boys were changing, and getting their hair fixed and their makeup touched up. Elbows were bumped and chairs were knocked into, but this room with tile for walls was still bigger than some dressing rooms the group had been shoved into on the road.

Pulling the creaky door open with force, it was heavy as shit, you almost walked head first into Jungkook who was shirtless and adjusting his belt while the woman who worked with Sunny toyed with his hair.

Barging into the room, your simmering anger- if you could call it that- fueled your feet, and you collided right into the kids chest.

A muffled “Whoa!” came out of you both, and though your voices were hushed, they carried around the room that was full of low chatter from everyone else.

Stiffening your hands by your side, you didn’t want to think twice about what you had accidentally touched, you looked the boy up and down and laughed. “Sorry, Kook.”

That toothy grin reassured you that you had nothing to worry about. “Why’d you look so mad?”

“I’m not mad,” you breathed, giving your shoulders a shrug.

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “Yeah, okay. What’s the matter?”

Looking over his shoulder you spy Yoongi checking himself out in a little square mirror, adjusting a hat that covered his hair. As he turned around to button the shirt he had slipped into, you figured he’d want your attention like he did outside, but he didn’t seem to notice you were there.

“You guys fighting or something?” Jungkook asked, sneaking a glance at your boyfriend.

Fighting wasn’t it, that wasn’t the word you’d use to describe what was happening, but you definitely were not on the best of terms at this exact second. Actually, for the past month or so things have been off. Part of you wondered if it was the two of you adjusting to a new life. Well, you were adjusting to a new life. Yoongi was adjusting to having a girlfriend.

Still, the way these weeks have been going by, melancholy and a little stale, aside from the combined hours you’d spend between your sheets, it was a total flip from the second half of last year.

You wouldn’t be lying if you admitted the fear you had in the start of all of this was haunting you.

Popstar bored with his latest conquest.

Rockstar getting sick and tired of the same old, same old.

Twenty two year old male got what he wanted out of a twenty two year old female and is pushing her away so he didn’t have to be the one to send her home after she literally uprooted her life to take her dream job, one he unfortunately is heavily involved with…

“You are not okay,” Jungkook's quiet voice broke you out of your thoughts. He had a shirt on now, his outfit was complete all the way down to the accessories. Meeting his gaze, he was worried. The cheesy grin and crinkly eyes were gone, replaced with concern and furrowed brows.

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you choked out. “We’re fine, everything is fine.”

Jungkooks hardened glare refused to let up. “You’re an awful liar, Honey.”

“I could say the same about you,” your tone was laced with snarkiness. “Where’s Jimin?” Glancing about the room, you finally break into a giggle when you watch his expression go wild.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he sneered.

Popping your brows, you smiled. “Exactly.”

“No, seriously, what are you talking about?” Jungkook stepped closer to you, but you reached for the door behind you, pushing it open. “No, no, you’re not escaping, get back here!” With a laugh you fled from the makeshift dressing room and hurried out toward the empty swimming pool that was in the center of the giant warehouse.

Circling the edge of it, you came to halt and could not hold back the screech that came out of you when Jungkook grabbed you by the waist, almost knocking you into the concrete abyss that was only five feet deep. “Don’t run away from me when I’m talking to you, especially after you say something like that.” You could hear the grin on his lips.

Lifting you away from the pool while you laughed like crazy, he carried you to a quiet corner and put your feet back on the ground, turning you around to lecture you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said for what felt like the umpteenth time. Jungkook groaned, tipping his head backward.

“Why did you bring up Jimin?” His big, doe eyes bore into yours, genuinely asking you. Quirking a brow you tilt your chin a bit to question him. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t make me say it.”

Gulping, you gave him a slight shrug. “Do I know what you’re talking about?” This was not where you thought you’d have this conversation, on set, surrounded by crew members, while the very boy you spoke of had wandered out of the dressing room with the others god knows how long after you ran away from them.

Yoongi included.

Jungkook's lips tipped down a bit. The sight made your heart twist. “I swore you knew… What I was talking about… What you were… talking about… God.” Scrunching up his face he gripped his forehead and groaned again.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, putting your hands over both of his wrists.

“Thought I wouldn’t have to say it to you, the words, because I don’t know how to say them, and if you already knew then it’d really help ‘cause I dunno what the hell to say-“

“Jungkook,” you said louder, cutting him off, though you’d never heard the boy ramble like this before. He dropped the hand from his head and scrambled for your hands, squeezing them as tight as he could. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you… panic.”

He took a deep breath, one that helped you relax some. “I can’t…” Pausing, he sucked down another breath and shook his head. “I can’t say it.”

“Okay,” you nodded, dragging your thumbs over his hands. “That’s okay, you don’t have to.” He swallowed hard, beginning to nod with you. “Can I… Can I ask you a question? Just to make sure that I do know what you know?”

His brows met in the center of his forehead. “Um… Yeah,” he answered with a sigh. “Sure, ask me.” The way his shoulders rose made him appear like he was bracing for impact.

This was going to be hard. Getting him to break out of whatever norms he was used to was going to be a challenge. You knew already, you have for a while. You didn’t have to ask him about it, or torture him anymore by talking about it longer than he wanted, but he needed your help. He had to talk about it, or he would be stuck in this place forever.

Much like somebody else.

“I’ll… take this slow. And careful,” you said.

“Thanks,” Jungkook sighed. “It’s my first time.” He truly was an eighteen year old boy. Cracking a laugh at his stupid joke, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. He was thankfully wearing a smile when you looked up at him.

“When you see me with Yoongi, do you want that?” Your question sucked the humor out of the moment. His lips pulled together curiously. “That type of… relationship? With a girlfriend?” His lips were sealed now. “Kookie, it’s okay,” you smiled, shaking his hands so they’d swing by your side. “Nothing’s gonna change.”

You were once again reminded of the separate worlds you and these boys came from. You grew up in New York, and spent most of your life in the city. In Manhattan for that matter, literally where everybody no matter what version of queer you were came to celebrate themselves.

Jungkook parted his lips, hesitating big time before he whispered, “It’s terrifying.”

“I know,” you said. “And that’s okay, it’s going to be. But, I can tell you right now that I will still love you no matter what, and I know damn well those six idiots over there, fully clothed in an empty swimming pool,” he giggled, “They will still love you. You are their pride and joy. Do you know how easily you could get away with murder with those guys on your side?” A laugh is shared before quiet falls around the two of you.

The voices of the six idiots in the empty swimming pool echoed through the warehouse, their words getting muddled in the air.

“You don’t wanna say it,” you began, and Jungkook rapidly shook his head. “I know,” you started to smile. “But… can I?” His face twisted with discomfort, or disgust, or he was cringing… You couldn’t piece it together. “I won’t say the word, relax,” you said. “I just need confirmation, I don’t want to get this wrong.”

A nod was all you were going to get from him.

Lowering your voice to the point where you weren’t even sure he’d be able to hear you though he was standing five inches away from you, you whispered, “You like boys.”

A sharp inhale ripped through his chest. His face remained stone cold as he jerked his chin up and stared at the ceiling for all of three seconds before scoping your surroundings. Letting him have his moment, you knew he’d come back to you when he was ready. And he did.

Another small, meek nod was all you were going to get from him. And it was enough.

“Kookie.” A grin was plastered onto your face. He attempted to smile as well, but he wore his nerves… everywhere. “You did it, you just told me. That’s huge.”

He gasped a breath and huffed a laugh. “Technically you told me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you squeezed his hands, throwing them away to wrap your arms around his growing body. He was getting more muscular everyday. “I’m proud of you.”

His arms snaked around your shoulders. Placing his chin on top of your head, he took a deep breath, one that made you rise and fall with his chest. His heart was racing, you could feel it pounding between his ribs.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Always here for you, Kook.”

“Honey!” Sunny’s voice shouted toward you, echoing against the roof, vibrating the walls. The sweet nickname she gifted you with when you were twelve had a way of sounding incredibly menacing when she forced it from her glossed lips with a bite.

Pulling away from Jungkook you looked toward her and the way she’s standing at the edge of the pool, gesturing into it.

“It’s like herding toddlers who just learned how to sprint,” she raised her brows. “They are all here, it’s now or never. The sun sets in three hours.”

“Let’s go,” Jungkook said, nudging you with his shoulder as he started toward the pool.

Following close behind him you watched as he jumped over the edge fearlessly and landed on his feet, rushing to Namjoons side. The leader threw an arm around the youngests shoulder and gave him a smile, one that Jungkook returned.

Bumping into Sunny, standing as close to her as possible, she eyed you curiously and asked, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He will be.”

Shifting your gaze over each boy to inspect what they were wearing and to ensure they were camera ready like Sunny declared, you find Yoongi looking up at you, your eyes meeting for the first time since you spoke outside. You couldn’t read him.

Hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, he was clenching his jaw so tight his teeth could crack. It was hard to tell whether or not he was angry, or upset, but he seemed it. Everything about his energy was… off. Like the past few weeks.

If he was miffed at you for whatever reason he could conjure up, you were certain it wouldn’t be as good as yours. All you wanted to do was talk to him. At this point in your relationship, you should know a whole bunch about him, not be discussing your days for a mere twenty minutes after work just to have sex and either fall asleep or go home.

Gritting your teeth, you sent a reciprocated chilling glare back to him, as much as it hurt your heart.

“Okay! Let’s go,” you called out to bring everybody back into the shoot, breaking the stare when it became too much to handle. “Bring it boys, let’s have some fucking fun!”

There was about an hour spent around the pool, you and Sunny either sitting on the edge behind the cameras, or jumping in to fix something or adjust the details. Both you and Yoongi fought to not look at one another, and you wondered if anyone else was being suffocated by the air in the room.

When you approached Jungkook to shift him over, adjusting the spacing so that he wasn’t covering too much of Hoseok, you felt his eyes burning into you. Like you putting your hands on the teenager's shoulder made him want to burn the place down. You swear the earth rumbled.

You couldn’t help but feel a tad guilty. The two of you had spoken about Jungkook before, or Yoongi’s made jokes rather. He didn’t know what you knew, and now it was confirmed that Yoongi had nothing to worry about when it came to his friend. He just had no idea.

By the end of this style of shots, after watching the seven of them cruise through the choreography again and again, your eyes wandered to Yoongi when ‘cut’ was called. He rolled his left shoulder backward, frowning as he did. Folding your arms you joined the camera team behind the screens to monitor what they had captured, keeping your peripheral glued to your boyfriend who shimmied something out of his pocket.

He was coming toward you. He was looking directly at you, coming toward you. Turning your chin, nerves shot up your spine as you took him in. Not a single word was spoken. Looking into your eyes, he slipped something into one of your hands, paused for half of a second, then followed the boys out of the pool.

You waited until he stalked off to look at what he had given you. Opening your hand you found your folded up sheet of notes that you forgot you gave him. Shaking your head the slightest, you open it up to see if anything on it would spark your inspiration, and down in the corner, in the last available blank space, ‘I love you’ was written in his chicken scratch.

A lump lodged in your throat, one you attempted to swallow away. Folding the paper up quick, you glanced out to where he had walked away to, but he was gone.

The shoot wrapped up around two or three in the morning. No one was paying attention to the clock, everyone was having way too much fun. This video was carefully calculated chaos dipped in mischievous partying- The exact image BTS was aiming to articulate. And you did that.

After thanking the crew, thanking the staff, and thanking the boys, you ventured into the dressing room where seven exhausted bodies were still shouting at one another. It usually took them a good hour to wind down after something like this, especially if it were a show. Both you and Sunny knew that the second their heads hit the cushions in the car they’d be out.

Except Yoongi. Another thing you both shared, the inability to get good sleep. Unless you were beside one another.

Letting the heavy door shut behind you, the scene of the boys stumbling over their feet while they changed into their cozy clothes made you want to smile. Taehyung was already laid back in a chair fighting to keep his eyes open while Hoseok straddled his lap, dancing around to the latest trend to try to keep him awake. Jungkook was slipping into a hoodie, Namjoon was helping Jimin wipe off his makeup, and Jin was hovering over Yoongi, blocking him out of your view.

Sunny wasn’t here, she and her assistant stylist had cleaned up their things already to give the boys their space. The two were combing through the set now, making sure they didn’t leave anything behind all while cleaning up after the boys. There wasn’t much for you to collect aside from the piece of paper in your pocket.

You came in here for one more thing.

As the shoot went on it seemed Yoongi loosened up, the two of you shared the occasional laugh when something would happen, but other than that you didn’t speak. By the end of it all your heart was positively broken, watching him walk away from you with the boys without a second glance back.

Not many of your past relationships made it past this point. Once you hit the first bump in the road it was split city. None of them had been as invigorating or exciting as this one has. You used to be able to see this coming, the relationship's demise hovering toward you like a cloud in the sky, letting you know it was all about to go to hell.

You didn’t want this one to go to hell.

You wanted this one to work out.

You weren’t sure what your future looked like quite yet, but you knew you wanted to figure it out with Yoongi. When you were with him, he knew parts of you you weren’t even sure you knew yourself. He could see you, he could hear you, just as you could see and hear him. Which is why this doubt started hanging over you in the first place.

Brushing past each of the boys who hit you with a generous thank you in some way or another, you only had a small smile to offer them. By the time you shuffled toward the back of the room and reached Yoongi and Jin, the eldest of the two took one look at you and scurried away.

“Nice,” you said quietly, watching Jin as he glanced about the room, looking for something, seeming to ask the other boys where to find it. “Was I a bitch today? Or…” Yoongi, who had his arms crossed over his chest where he sat, sighed heavily and shook his head, screwing his eyes shut.

“No,” he mumbled. Holding your hands behind your back you looked down at him and thinned out your lips, hoping he’d say more. Beneath your gaze he could feel it, the need for him to say more, to talk about it, to talk about something. “Honey, I… Listen…”

“I’m listening,” you whispered, barely moving. Yoongi threw his arms to the side.

“Why am I in trouble here?” His eyebrows furrowed over his eyes, just visible under his messy silver hair. The stiff tone of his voice sent a chill over your skin, and signaled to the boys that it was time to leave the room.

“Never said you were in trouble,” you said. The door slammed shut, echoing against the tiled walls. Jungkook was the last to leave, sending a longing glance your way, but you missed it.

“Then why act like I did something wrong,” Yoongi said, sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “All day you’ve been treating me like I’ve done something to you, and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it is.”

After a deep breath you mumbled, “Yoongi,” but he cut you straight off.

“I’m so happy that you have this job. I’m so happy you are doing what you love to do, and you’re creating, and you’re making the art that you want to make. You’re changing the game for us, for the industry… For me. You’re breaking boundaries, you’re taking it a step too far, and it’s so damn exciting, Honey, it really is.” He paused to look up at you. His wide, pleading eyes lost in more ways than one. “I feel like I take the fun out of it for you.”

You didn’t miss the way his voice cracked, the sound hitting you straight in the heart. “D, please, don’t do that,” you whispered, taking a step closer to him. He drug his hands over his face.

“How can I not?” he shrugged. “You have more fun with Jungkook, you don’t speak to me, and when you do I somehow turn it all to shit.”

“D, what the hell are you talking about?” Taking to his side, you crouched beside him and rested your arms across his lap. He couldn’t look at you, his focus was elsewhere. “You do not turn it all to shit.”

The way he looked at you pained you like a slap to the face. “Don’t try to make me feel better when I know you’re pissed at me.” Narrowing your eyes, the only thing you can do is shake your head. “I know everything you want me to do. And I won’t do it.”

“You can do it, you just have to-”

“No,” he was firm. “I won’t do it. I don’t want to.”

Standing to your feet you tucked your arms behind you like they once were. His words were confirmation enough. If he wasn’t going to speak, if he wasn’t going to communicate… If he wanted to just brush over everything as if it were nothing, and continue living in ignorant bliss, acting like everything was fine… It was over.

What once was bliss and ecstatic euphoria had hit a dead end. This gorgeous face and beautiful mind that had shown you in many ways what it was like to live, to live for yourself, was giving this up.

Granted it’d only been a few months, and you’re certain you both said ‘I love you’ way too soon, but it was authentic, it was real, it was you. It was Yoongi. From the start you’ve moved way too quick, you’ve been sprinting since the day you met. It was a whirlwind of dramatic excitement, and it was everything you had ever wanted, everything you ever wished for.

But, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe living in fast forward was what pushed this over the edge. Jumping headfirst into a relationship with a complete stranger from an entire different world, falling in love with them in mere weeks, moving across the globe, running from a life you used to know…

It wasn’t meant to be.

And that thought alone nauseated you.

You wanted him to be your forever.

Walking toward the door without looking back, you did your best to ignore the fact that he didn’t even try to stop you. He let you walk away.

He let the relationship crumble to pieces right in front of him, and he didn’t do a thing to save it.

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